i blame it
on the rain
my inability
to see clearly
is the precipitation
not the barely
restrained tears
the cold wind
stinging my face
as the frost
forms in my beard
not the agony
in my chest
but axial tilt
pushing me farther
from the sun
in eacapable
avarice for
the warmth taken
away simply by
being in the
wrong place at
an inopportune time
going nowhere
at the speed of
the dead rock’s
rotation as a
revolution ignites
in my frozen soul

it has to be
the rain drizzling
rivulets running
in a chaotic frenzy
down the cracked
facade of a fool
running headfirst
into the invisible
cage he is doomed
to concuss himself
against eternally
not the hot lines
torn through the
hopelessness that
is rampant with
every wispy thought
a winter solstice
miracle of clarity
as we hurtle alone
in the emptiness
of universal despair